Misery Loves Company
by DareToDream17
Summary: She tried to end her life; everyone wanted him to get his life back together.  The only thing these two have in common are the rehab center they both are forced to live in, and their newfound way of coping through music.
1. Sticks and Stones

Chapter 1

"_Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me."_

She had come to hate the color white. She used to love the cheery, innocent aura it gave off, but now it only reminded her of the room she was confined to. Everything was white here. The peeling walls, the tile floors, the uncomfortable bedspread- all a sickening white. Yet nothing in the room was cheery or innocent. Including her.

She was tainted. She was broken. And she was alone. The scars that ran down her arm reminded her constantly of it. Nobody needed her, and nobody wanted her. Even her own parents- the only two people in the world who she thought loved her- exiled her here to her own hell. And did they visit? No. Did they call? Rarely. She was a prisoner here.

Exactly forty-one days ago, they sent her here. Rehab- or treatment center- as they called it to make it sound nicer, and make her feel like less of a freak. They claimed that she desperately needed help, and she agreed with them. But instead of talking it through with her, they shipped her off to this horrid place. It was the easy way out for them. They could tell people that she was visiting relatives in a different state, because they surely could not tarnish their perfect reputation in the small town. She scoffed. It was like she was dead to them… apparently her attempt at it did not do the trick.

A knock on her door alerted her that she was not alone. Though it did not feel like it, she was surrounded by people like her. Some of them even more messed up then her. She just chose not to let anyone in. The world was such a cruel place, and she did not want to risk more pain from ignorant people. After all, her first scars hadn't even healed yet.

"_I am sure you will like it here at McKinley High School," the secretary told her with a smile. "Not only are our academic achievements astounding, but the students are wonderful too."_

"_I know I will love it here," she smiled back, blissfully unaware of how false that statement would be._

"_Are you interested in anything particular? Perhaps I can help you join a club so you can find a group of people with similar interests."_

"_Well, I do love to sing. Are there any musical auditions anytime soon? I would love to join Drama Club."_

"_I'm afraid that our musical is already in progress," the secretary loosed pensive, "however, a new club has just gotten started. Glee club. In fact, the sign up sheet is right on that bulletin board." _

_She beamed. "Thank you so much! I will definitely enjoy it here."_

It all started because of that damn secretary. If she hadn't told her about glee club, then the pain that came with the club would have never happened. It was all that damn secretary's fault.

_Red slushie dripped down her white shirt. It was not the first time that had happened, and it certainly would not be the last. It seemed like everyone hated her at the school. They mocked her for singing in glee club, criticized her unique fashion sense, and made fun of her gay dads. _

_She did not let it get to her though. She knew that they were all just bullies and jealous of her talent. One day, they would buy magazines with her on the cover. She just had to get through high school, and then it would all be over. _

_She walked down the halls with her head held high. Though tears were craving to spill from her eyes, she refused to give her peers the satisfaction of seeing her cry. That would only had fuel to the fire. She knew she could get through it. At least, she sure hoped so. _

She was so naïve back them. She thought that their words would never get to her. She thought that she could be strong and overcome any obstacle that life threw at her. She wished she could go back to those days when she believed in her herself, because they sure were a lot better than the days now.

_Red was her new favorite color. She liked the way it represented bravery, courage, and blood. The first time she saw this color seep down her wrist was exactly five months ago. Her first boyfriend, who she thought she was madly in love with, broke up with her. He wanted to have sex; she did not. He pushed her to do it for him, but she couldn't get herself to go through with it. It ended right then and there. Between her bitter break-up and the harsh words she heard from her peers every day, she wanted to feel pain. She wanted to remind herself that she could feel pain instead of the numbness and hollowness she felt in her heart. Call her masochistic, but she enjoyed the first time the razor sliced through her skin. It left her scared and worried, but it got her mind of everything. _

_It was just the distraction she needed. _

_It continued for three months. When she was feeling lonely and angry, she did it. When she saw pornographic drawing of herself in the bathroom, she did it. She wasn't stupid, though; she wore long shirts to cover her inflictions, and nobody said a thing. Whether they chose to ignore her or simply didn't notice, she didn't know. But she knew that she needed to feel some sort of pain. It was turning into her lifeline._

"Rachel!" the person at her door called. "May I come in?"

"Does it even matter? It's not like this door has a lock," she scoffed.

Her psychologist, Maria, entered with a small smile. "I know, but we want you to feel as at home as you can here."

Rachel stared blankly at her. This place would never resemble any part of the home she was longing for. Though she did not know what she even considered home, she knew it wasn't here. It occurred to her that she didn't truly have a home. Her parents abandoned her, and she had no friends. Was this really what she had to call home?

"How are you doing?" Maria asked gently, sensing her bitterness.

"Same as ever," she responded cynically. Rachel tried to remember the time when she used to have manners, but it felt so long ago, she could barely recall it.

"Have you made any friends?" Maria asked her, and Rachel couldn't help but feel like she was being psychoanalyzed. She felt like whenever she said something, it was going to be used against her. Three years in high school did that to her. Those kids turned everything she said into something else, and she hated it. She hated them. They scarred her; she just did the act of it with a razor.

"Nope," Rachel said. She knew she was being a pain in the ass. She was the perfect epitome of an angsty teen, but she didn't care. Life had been so cruel to her that she didn't care what people thought of her anymore. What was the point in caring when nobody cared back?

Her psychologist sighed. Forty-one days and counting, and she had made no progress with the girl. She knew that most teenagers- seventeen year olds, especially- did not give their trust to just anyone. But this girl put on an insurmountable barrier that could not be broken through. She wondered if Rachel would ever come around.

"Well, I have something I need you to do," Maria said soothingly.

"What?" Rachel asked, narrowing her eyes. She didn't owe these people anything.

"We have a new teen coming in today, and we need you to show him around. Would you like that?"

"No," Rachel said bluntly. "In fact, I would hate it. I won't do it."

"It's not a request," Maria said kindly but with conviction. "We are doing everything we can to help you, Rachel-"

"Maybe I don't need help!" Rachel blew up. "It's not my fault I resorted to cutting myself! It's not my fault I almost killed myself! It's all those damn kids' fault!"

Maria was silent. Never before had Rachel acknowledged what she had done to herself, as she always ignored Maria when it was mentioned. Was this progress? Was she finally coming to terms with what she did, and why it needed to stop?

"This will be good for you," Maria chose her words carefully. "This boy could teach you a lot, and I am sure you could teach him a lot."

"But I don't want to," Rachel snapped. "I just want to leave this place."

"He will be here in twenty minutes," was all Maria said as she left Rachel's room.

Rachel just screamed into her pillow. Nobody ever listened to her. It was just her against the world.

… … …

When Rachel first saw the boy, she didn't know what to think. He screamed _danger_! He had a ridiculous mohawk, hazel eyes that might be green if she looked closely, and muscles that looked like they could crush any innocent bystander. When she looked again, she noticed things that she didn't initially see. Like, his pupils had a faraway look in them, he had bags under his eyes, and his face was a bit paler than the rest of his tan skin. One thing she immediately noticed, however, was how unscathed his skin was. If he wasn't like her, then what was he like? There were few other teenagers in the treatment center, so Rachel didn't know what to think of the other misfits like her who also needed help.

"Noah Puckerman, but call me Puck," his gruff voice broke her out of her staring. Though she noticed that he was staring blatantly at her to. They were both trying to figure out what the other one's problem was.

"Rachel Berry," she mirrored his tone.

After their informal greeting, she didn't know what to say. Why are you here? What do you think of rehab? Pretty great, huh? She knew that if he asked her any of those questions, she would sock him in the eye.

"So why are you here?" he asked, with a hint of an attitude.

"Are you really asking me that?" she growled, clenching her fists.

"Well, we are in rehab. Isn't that all you guys talk about here? Aren't I just supposed to talk about how miserable my life is? It's just going to be one big pity party." He clapped his hands together in mock enthusiasm.

Rachel instantly hated him.

She glared at him. "Why are _you_ here?"

"I asked you first."

"It's none of your business."

"Then neither is you knowing why I'm here."

After a good ten seconds of glaring, Rachel stomped away. Screw that psychologist! She refused to talk to Noah Puckerman. It was people like him who made her spiral into depression. He was just like those guys at her school. He had a self-esteem that was way too high and she knew- she just knew- that he was a bully.

"Wait!" she heard him say.

Despite her anger, she turned around. Curiosity always killed the cat. "What?"

"I really don't want to be here, but I have to know something. Are there any hot girls around here? I haven't had sex in-"

Rachel didn't really remember what happened next, but the sound of her fist colliding with Puck's eye did register in her ears. And damn, did it feel good.

At least she taught him a lesson, right? She was already following her psychologist's orders. Who says that's not progress?

**A/N: I am back! I have taken a much needed break from FanFiction, but I am definitely ready to get my stories back on track. School has kept me busy, but summer just started, so I have a few months of freedom! I am going to cut down on A/N's, so I just want to say hello to anyone who hasn't read my stories, and thanks for staying with me to any of my faithful readers on here! Updates on this story will be quite frequent, and updates on my other Glee stories will be coming. I have been writing in my spare time, and now I have a lot of time on my hands, so you will definitely see some more chapters :) **

**So: questions of the chapter! What do you think of Rachel? Puck? Any thoughts on what his problem is? **


	2. Just Me Alone

Chapter 2

_I think I'd do better on my own, no friends, no fights, just me alone. - Anonymous_

"-and she just attacked me! Out of nowhere!"

Maria sighed. "Keep the ice on your eye, Noah. The swelling should go down soon." Then she turned to Rachel. "You know very well, Rachel, that we prohibit violence here."

"He deserved it, so I don't see what the problem is. Besides, you always tell me how I need to express my emotions. I did exactly what you asked."

"The problem is you mauled me!" Puck yelled.

"Then maybe you shouldn't say crude things to a girl- who you just met- might I add!"

"Then maybe you should accept that that's just who I am!"

Rachel scoffed. "I'm leaving."

"Hold up, Rachel. I want you both to talk through what just happened," Maria suggested.

"What?" they both exclaimed in union.

"Just say how you are feeling right now. Then we will go from there."

"Fine," Puck snapped, "I am feeling like I don't want to be here right now. I don't want to be in rehab, and I especially don't want to be here now that I know how crazy the people are."

Rachel seethed. "I feel like I want to punch his other eye!"

"Guys," Maria interrupted, "Yelling is not going to help solve the issue. Rachel, why did you get angry so quickly? What did Noah do that provoked you?"

"He said things that men should not say to other women."

"I just asked her where the hot girls were!" Puck exclaimed, "there's no problem with that, is there? It was an honest question!"

"Yes, there is a problem!" Rachel screamed.

"So after five minutes of knowing one another, you immediately hate each other?" Maria asked incredulously. "That seems a bit ridiculous, wouldn't you both agree? I am sure you two could bond over both being here. I know there aren't many kids your age here, so you should try to become civil. You two must have something in common."

"Nope," Puck shook his head vehemently. "Me and Freak have absolutely nothing in common."

The moment Puck called Rachel a freak, hundreds of memories rushed back at her. Full force. She wanted to vomit from the crystal clear images that continued to haunt her.

"_You have man hands!"_

"_Your nose is bigger than Pinocchio's!"_

"_I've seen midgets taller than you!"_

"_Stop!" Rachel shouted, "that is not true! Stop harassing me! I will file reports on all of you."_

_The students just chortled away, amused by her discomfort. They knew they were finally getting to Rachel. It took them three years, but they could finally relish in the success of tearing down Rachel the Unbreakable. _

_Rachel shocked everyone when she bursted out crying and ran to the bathroom. She stepped on her shoelace while running, which only caused more laughter. _

_After what seemed like an eternity, she reached the stall. She wasn't sure how long she locked herself in there, but she knew it was a long time. When she finally got the courage to leave, she immediately regretted it._

_There on the bathroom mirror were the words RACHEL BERRY THE FREAK written in red lipstick._

_All she could do was slump to the floor and cry again. They finally got to her. She had prided herself in her courage, yet she let them win. She was a failure._

"Rachel!" Maria called. "Are you alright?"

"What?" Rachel asked, but then realized that her voice cracked. Was she crying? She blindly wiped at her eyes and sighed in relief when she noticed that they were still dry.

"I'm fine," Rachel said, composing herself. "I just need to… go."

Before Maria could protest, Rachel was already out of the door. She ran down the hall to her room, searching for anything. Anything that would make the emptiness she was currently feeling go away.

"Is there nothing sharp here?" she screamed at her reflection.

She carelessly went through drawers, searching. It was in vain hope, since anything that could be potentially dangerous was taken away from her when she entered rehab, but surely she could find _something_ that would ease the pain.

As she was angrily rummaged though her stuff, her door slowly opened. She didn't turn her head around though. She wasn't ready to see the disappoint in Maria's face. She was sure that her psychologist would be angry with her, since she was only getting worse. She started a fight, punched the new kid, and didn't even regret it. Maybe they would all finally realize that she shouldn't be here! Rehab was only making her deteriorate faster.

"Hey," a voice said, which definitely didn't belong to Maria.

Rachel whipped her head around and narrowed her eyes. Of course it was him.

"Hey," Puck said again, this time more awkwardly. "Are you going to answer me or not?"

"What do you want?" Rachel tried to make her tone less harsh, but couldn't mask her bitterness.

"Maria made me follow you," Puck rolled his eyes, "It's not like I came here on my own free will."

"Well you found me, so you can leave."

"Hold on a sec. I want to know why you just ran off like that."

"Even if I told you, would you really care?"

"Nah, probably not."

"Just get out," Rachel sighed, defeated. "You obviously don't care about my story, and I don't care about yours. So we should just forget we ever met. If you ignore me when you see me, then I will ignore you."

"Fine by me," Puck shrugged. "I won't be here much longer anyway."

"What?" Rachel asked, surprised and slightly jealous. "They are letting you go? Even though you _clearly_ have problems, seeing as how you introduced yourself to me."

Puck glared. "I _don't_ have any problems, so I shouldn't be here. So I am leaving."

Rachel laughed cynically. "Oh, I see. You think you can just get up and prance on out of here? We are under eighteen, so we have no say in this. We have no rights. We can scream and kick as much as we want, but nothing is going to change."

"Just watch me," Puck smirked cruelly, slamming Rachel's door as he left her room. He had enough of that girl. She could outsmart him, punch him while he was off his guard, and make it longer here than he could. But as much as it pained him to admit it, she did have a good point. He _was_ under eighteen, so he couldn't leave this damn place without parental consent. But he sure as hell was going to try.

He searched for the telephone that everyone shared and dialed a familiar number. "Ma," he said quietly through the receiver, sounding more broken then he ever thought was possible.

"Oh, Noah," his mom sighed. "How are you doing?"

"I want to go home!" he said shakily. "I hate it here, Ma. I already got into a fight, the psychologist hates me, and there are like no other people my age here besides this annoying girl..."

"It will get better, Noah," his mom soothed, "it will all be okay. After you get some help, you can come home."

"I don't need help!" Puck forced himself not to yell. "It was just a couple of stupid mistakes, Ma. I am not as bad off as you think I am."

"If I believed that, then I would be a terrible parent for lying to myself. I know you don't want to believe it, but being at the treatment center will only help you. You overdosed several times, came home drunk every weekend, and don't even get me started on the girls you have had sex with. You are _addicted_ to drugs, alcohol, and sex. That is completely unhealthy and you know it. I know things have been rough with your father and my's divorce, but that is no excuse for that kind of behavior. I am worried about you, Noah. And believe me, it wasn't easy sending you to that treatment center, but I know that it is the right decision. Please just help yourself, son. Please."

"This place isn't for me though," Puck tried helplessly, feeling completely vulnerable for once in his life.

"You know that isn't true," his mother said softly. "I will talk to you tomorrow, okay? Try to get some rest and be on your best behavior."

"Whatever. Bye," Puck mumbled. He slammed the phone back into place. His last chance of leaving this place was completely gone.

"You know, if you break that phone, you are going to have some very angry people at you," a voice startled him.

"You," he glared at Rachel. "What are you doing here, stalking me? Listening in on my private phone calls? You got guts, Berry. First you punch me and now you stalk me. Awesome."

"Please, do you really think that I would stalk you? You are hardly interesting enough to follow around all day. Maria cornered me in the hall, and made me come find you. She said she doesn't want any of her patients fighting. Does that explanation suffice?" she asked sarcastically.

"It will do," he mocked back, "I think we should go find Maria and tell her she doesn't know shit about teenagers. We hate each other. The end. Her meddling is not going to magically make us best friends."

"You really do hate me?" Rachel said with this look in her eyes that Puck couldn't place. She said it as both a statement and question, which made him even more confused.

"Well, you really do hate me," he said, feeling like the were talking in riddles.

Rachel shook her head, as if she was in deep thought. "I know people hate me, I just never thought that a person- who didn't even go to my school, nonetheless- would hate me after knowing me for just a few hours. Am I really that bad?" she asked Puck sincerely. "Honestly, I want to know."

Puck stalled. What was he supposed to say? He wasn't afraid to hurt the girl's feelings, but at the same time, he didn't want to lie to her and make her feel like she was the worst person he had ever encountered. He wasn't _that_ cruel. (He hoped) "I guess you aren't as bad as I initially thought," he settled on.

Rachel gave a small, almost microscopic, smile. "So you don't actually hate me? I know we said some things when we were really angry, but now that we are a bit calmer..."

"Yeah, yeah, don't worry. I won't declare you as my everlasting enemy, Berry. But that doesn't mean we are friends. We aren't even acquaintances."

"I know that," Rachel rolled her eyes, "I am not an idiot. I am hoping that when when Maria sees that we can talk civilly, she will think that we are both progressing, so we will be let out of this prison a lot sooner."

"Yeah," Puck's eyes glimmered with something that resembled hope, "That's actually a good idea. They are never going to let us out of here if we keep fighting. So should we call it a truce? We may not be getting along for the right reasons, but at least it will benefit us both, right?"

"Right," Rachel agreed. "So no more fighting. Are you sure you can handle it?" she asked skeptically.

"Can _you_?" Puck shot back.

"Oh God, how are we going to convince others that we aren't fighting when we can't even convince ourselves? Let's face it Noah- some people just don't get along. I don't get along with anybody, so I am really not surprised that you and I don't mesh well. I have never had a friend, and I don't expect to get anything remotely close to one right now. So let's just give up," she sighed.

"I haven't know you long, but I thought you weren't one to give up," Puck retorted sharply.

"I gave up a long time ago," she smiled sadly. "After all, there's nothing to live for anymore, right?"

"What do you mean?" Puck asked, vile rising in his throat. All of a sudden, everything clicked. He suddenly had a sinking feeling on why Rachel was in here, and it made him sick to his stomach. She wasn't in here for drugs or alcohol like he initially assumed. Her problem was much more complicated than teenage rebellion.

"I think you know what's wrong with me," she answered quietly.

Then she walked away, and Puck made no move to go after her. He felt too sick to do anything. It was like he saw a totally new, vulnerable Rachel Berry. And that scared the hell out of him.

* * *

><p>AN: I would just like to thank everyone who reviewed, alerted, etc. this story! It wasn't much, but I am still pleased whenever I see I have a new review :) I would also like to say that none of these topics should be taken lightly. Self-harm, drinking, and drugs are all serious issues, and I hope that my story will continue to convey that.

So... now we know what Puck's in for. And how their friendship is starting. Anybody think that they would befriend each other to get out quicker? Any thoughts? What do you think about Puck knowing Rachel's problem?

If you hit that review button, you will put a smile on my face! And get a quick update... :) There's plenty more to come!


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